


Confessions and Guilt

by morganaDW (morgana07)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Drunk Sam, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Guilty Sam, M/M, Porn, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 01, Slash, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:38:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morganaDW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Sam’s living on guilt since losing Jessica. When it catches up to him one night after trying to drown both the guilt & a secret he confesses a secret that will change things with Dean forever…he’s just surprised in the way it does. *Drunk/guilty/upset!Sam & concerned/hesitant/surprised!Dean* Set early season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions and Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> Summary:1-shot. Sam’s living on guilt since losing Jessica. When it catches up to him one night after trying to drown both the guilt & a secret he confesses a secret that will change things with Dean forever…he’s just surprised in the way it does. *Drunk/guilty/upset!Sam & concerned/hesitant/surprised!Dean* Set early season 1.
> 
> Pairings: Dean/Sam
> 
> Warnings: Language and other explicit stuff.
> 
> Spoilers: None unless you haven’t seen season 1 as some things are mentioned from the early episodes.
> 
> Author Note: The muse decided to do a first-time piece set early season 1. Thanks as always go to Jenjoremy for the quick and awesome beta work.

**Confessions and Guilt**

“I didn’t love her the way I was supposed to, and she knew it.” Sam Winchester swayed on the barstool and might’ve fallen off if Dean hadn’t grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

Many grief stricken sentiments had poured out of his little brother’s mouth over the two months since he had lost his girlfriend and basically his shot at a normal life, but Dean Winchester was caught totally off guard by this comment.

He decided to shrug it off and blame it on the fact that his brother hadn’t been sleeping or eating much at all since they’d left Palo Alto. The boy was also, right at this moment, drunker than he’d ever seen him and was half sobbing, half angry and all very clingy while Dean threw several bills on the bar and pulled his brother out to car.

“I left you alone for twenty minutes…left you in _the room_ so I could grab us dinner…and in those twenty minutes you managed to walk to a bar and get totally wasted? Did we lose all your big brain cells somewhere along the road, Sammy?” Dean was attempting to keep this light with his usual big brother snark and sarcasm evident in his voice, but he was more than a little concerned this time.

“It’s Sam…and nope…’m just getting’ tired of lyin’ and hidin’.” Sam staggered into the room and flopped back on the queen size bed farthest from the door. He looked up at the blank motel room ceiling but quickly screwed his blurry hazel eyes shut when the image of his dead girlfriend came back to him. “I didn’t love Jess…or not like I should’ve; not like people thought I did.”

Dean frowned while trying to wrestle his 6’4” little brother’s hoodie off over his head. These ramblings were new, not what he was used to hearing when Sam crawled into his bed at night to seek some kind of comfort from the nightmares when he relived seeing his girlfriend pinned to the ceiling of the bedroom they shared and bursting into flames.

Ever since they had completed the case with Bloody Mary, it seemed like Sam was more moody, more withdrawn and more in need of attention and reassurance; he looked to Dean for these things, a lot like he had when he’d been much younger.

“Sammy, you’re drunk, and that ghost yesterday tossed your giant ass around a lot, so you’re sleepy and probably concussed…just try to sleep. It’ll all look better in the morning.” Dean didn’t actually think it would because he hadn’t yet found a way to take away the grief that stained his brother’s boyishly handsome face or remove the layers of guilt that he’d noticed creeping into his eyes lately. “You’re just missing Jessica, but I’ve told you what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“If…if she hadn’t been there…if we hadn’t been pretending…she’d be alive,” Sam mumbled as his worn hoodie was pulled off, but instead of falling to his sides, his arms reached for his brother, fingers closing in the soft flannel of his overshirt. “All lies, De’n. My…whole life…lies.”

“Yeah, I know that’s how you feel, and maybe it’s true since Dad and I did lie to you a lot about what he did.” Dean had long since buried his own guilt over that. He’d hoped that when Sam left to go to college, he could find that happy normal life he so obviously craved. He still blamed himself for bringing the danger right back to his brother. “If Jess’s death is on anyone’s head then it’s on mine.”

Sam shook his head with enough force that his bangs fell into his eyes and he had to peer under them to see his older brother’s rugged face. “No. My lies got her killed,” he argued, words slurred as he suddenly managed to grab Dean’s arm to tug him closer. “I can’t hate you or Dad for…for lyin’ to me cause I…I lied to you too.”

“I hate to tell you this, geek-boy, but if you’re talking about lying to me about going to college…well, I knew for days that you’d been accepted into Stanford.” Dean smirked, trying to avoid the flailing arms that were reaching out for him and remembering that when his brother was sick, scared, or drunk, he tended to be more clingy and emotional than normal. “Plus, this is me. You never could lie to me with a straight face about anything cause I’m the guy who taught you to lie.”

“Did lie,” Sam retorted with an almost pout. Tears began to run down his face as his alcohol buzzed brain thought him back to his greatest lie, to what he blamed for killing an innocent girl, to what could end up costing him everything. “Lied about why…why I wanted out, why I had to leave.” He blinked until his vision cleared and he could focus on the deep green eyes that were watching him.

“You wanted to get away from us, away from hunting. You wanted that since before you were thirteen, Sam. You were smart enough to get a full ride to a good school, so again, it wasn’t exactly a big shock, certainly not a lie.” Dean rolled his eyes but then felt an uneasy feeling settle in his belly when those deep eyes, on the verge of going into full puppy-dog mode, opened to stare at him. It was like every damn thing the older brother had spent the past six years burying was coming back. “Sammy…”

“Yeah, I wanted outta hunting. I wanted away from Dad’s rules. But I would’ve stayed, De’n.” Sam tried to push onto his elbows, but his whole body felt like rubber and he fell back with something between a snort and a giggle, catching his brother’s hand when it went to brush his bangs out of his face. “I’d’ve stayed for you…if you would’ve let me tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Dean forced a scoff despite the way his chest was tightening. “Tell me that you were an annoying pain in my ass? Tell me that you and Dad’s would’ve driven me into a rubber room with all your fighting? I knew both of those things, baby brother.” He smirked despite the return of feelings that he’d locked away years ago and vowed to never let back out.

“That I loved you.” Sam’s eyes locked on his brother’s; he saw a flash of something that might’ve looked like heat, but it was gone in the time it took his drunk and frazzled brain to connect.

A lingering sense that he needed to break this up, and also break the hold Sam had on his wrist, was screaming through Dean’s brain, but he fought it back and just tried to laugh it off like he did anything that made him uneasy. “We’re brothers, stupid. I know you love me…I love you, too, little brother. It’s just…you know…that word has never been high on a Winchester’s list of things to say.” He started to pull back, planning to remove Sam’s boots before he finished tucking his drunk and miserable brother in for the night. He was suddenly reminded that even plastered, Sam could still surprise him when he was suddenly jerked back closer, face within an inch of Sam’s flushed one and close enough that he could feel the liquored breath on his face. “Sam.”

“I told you…or tried to when I was 16…remember that night? You gave me a beer after I had that fight with Dad…you gave me a couple beers, Dean…I told you that I loved you…but not like my big brother.” Sam’s soft voice was still slurred, but his glassy eyes were clearing and getting darker while he let his fingers clutch the front of Dean’s t-shirt. “I knew when I was 14 that I looked at you differently. I told you that…and I saw something that night…something that made me think that maybe you felt the same thing.” Sam closed his eyes in frustration and let his head turn to the side, away from Dean. “But then you freaked out and fell back on that line about us being brothers…you pushed me away and blamed it on the booze and teenage angst.”

“We are brothers!” Dean snapped back; he meant to make his voice harsh, but it only went deep and husky, not to the firm no-nonsense tone he’d been trying for. “You were drunk off your ass then…just like you are now, only this time you’re also grieving for the girl you loved and…”

“I didn’t love Jessica, dammit!” Sam suddenly yelled; grief, guilt and beer all combined to force the 22-year-old hunter’s emotions to the surface after years of being hidden. “I loved _you_! I wanted _you_! I went to Stanford not only to escape Dad, to try to be normal, but because of _you_! Because you didn’t want me, and it hurt too much to be close to you, to watch you, to have you touch me like you do without even thinking about it.” Sam let out a sob, certain that he had just lost his brother forever. “I know I’m a disgusting freak because I want my big brother to fuck me instead of some hot blonde!”

Sam’s emotions were out of control, and so was his alcohol-saturated body. His hands went flat to shove against Dean’s chest, to push him away as he tried to get off the bed, but he stumbled, falling between the two queen-sized beds with a yelp. He refused the helping hand that reached for him, preferring to remain on the floor with his head buried against his knees. “I tried to be normal, Dean! I tried to ignore how I felt for you for two goddamn years after you basically said it was all in my head. That it was wrong to feel like I did for you. I knew it was wrong! I knew wanting to see if what all those stupid girls in school said about you was wrong! I knew it and I didn’t give a goddamn because what the hell in my life was ever right?

“My life hasn’t been right since I was six-months old! My life wasn’t right or else it would’ve been my mother and father raising me instead of my big brother! We grew up already screwed, Dean! So why the hell should who I love be any less messed up than the rest of it?” he demanded, voice rising with his emotions. He finally managed to find his legs, to get them under him, but he fell, only strong hands grasping his arms kept him from falling on his face. “Everyone was right about me! I’m a freak!

“I got my Mom killed because it all happened in my nursery! I drove my father away because I wasn’t a perfect son like you! I had to run away to college before Dad found out that how I looked at my big brother was changing!” Sam’s fists were clenched in Dean’s shirt, eyes wide and wild, while his chest was heaving as he struggled to breath despite the pounding in his ears from his own heart. “I’ve looked up to you from the second I opened my eyes, and I always will…but I can’t lie about it anymore either! I love you! I want you! And Jess knew it! She knew how I felt for you.” Sam thought back to that night, the first he had first admitted his feelings to another person. “It was during my second year there. Jess and I were already dating…but on your birthday I went out and got plastered…I spilled every filthy secret I had…well except for the hunting monsters thing…I didn’t think she’d take that well…but my point is…she knew!

“Jess knew I loved you. We were best friends. I loved her like that. We faked the rest, so the school didn’t find out just how wrong I was, but she always knew you who you were and what you were to me.” The younger Winchester’s voice dropped as he suddenly began to realize what he’d been saying, but he decided that he didn’t give a crap. “I loved her like a sister, like a friend, because she was there for me when I couldn’t have you…and she died because people…or the demon…or whatever thought she was my girlfriend. I lost Jess because I was a coward for running away…and I’m gonna lose you for being a coward and needing to say this out loud. I know you’ll be gone in the morning…and it’s okay…cause I’m…a sick freak. I get it…I really do and I…know it’ll be my fault too but…just let me have this one thing…I’ll take the hate and shame along with the hangover in the morning.”

Dean was reeling from everything he’d just had shouted at him, trying to work through this unexpected confession. Suddenly what was about to happen clicked in his brain, and he was quick to physically put his emotionally ravaged and confused sibling back on his bed before backing up. “No, Sam.” He hated the look that his refusal brought to Sam’s already shattered face, but he needed to put some distance between them until he could make sense of all of this.

“De’n,” Sam dropped a letter in his brother’s name, and it was so much like they were teenagers again that Dean’s gut was twisting. He knew he had to get the kid to go to sleep before something happened that they couldn’t recover from. “I…” Sam dropped his chin to his chest, feeling the tears drop on his hand. “I’m…sorry. I shoulda…”

Calloused fingers brushed the tears away and startled Sam into looking up to see that while his brother was keeping his distance, he’d still reached out…so maybe he hadn’t screwed up too badly.

“You were drunk at 16. You were drunk when you told Jessica what you did. You’re way beyond drunk right now, little brother.” Dean was going on the firm belief that whatever said while liquored up could be wiped away the following day. “Wake up tomorrow, and after you finishing puking your lungs up from this fine demonstration of grief management, we’ll talk. For now, plant yourself in the bed and go to sleep, Sam.”

The order was given in typical big brother tone, the one that had always worked on Sam. Apparently it still did…he cocked his head as if considering Dean’s words and then just flopped over with a soft sound that could’ve been a sob, pulled his pillow closer and was asleep within minutes.

Dean watched for several more moments to be sure his brother was really asleep and looked to stay that way before he stepped outside the motel room door and slid down the wall, his legs suddenly as shaky as his hands were. He longed for the unopened bottle of whiskey in the Impala’s trunk but figured at least one of them needed to be sober in the morning and it looked like it needed to be him.

“ _Sonuvabitch_!” he gritted, letting his head hit the cement wall a few times while trying to figure out where in the hell he’d gone wrong. How had he missed seeing the signs that had obviously always been right in front of his goddamn eyes?

Yes, he remembered vividly the night that his high-strung and argumentative little brother had been an emotional mess after a fight over something with their Dad. Dean had been trying to get John out of the motel room, to put distance between father and brother, before the argument turned physical because after getting thrown by an angry spirit earlier in the day, Dean hadn’t felt like stepping between Sam and John like he often did back then.

He’d succeeded in getting their Dad to move on to the next hunt with the promise that they’d catch up. He’d offered Sam a beer, then another, hoping to calm the kid down. He hadn’t counted on the effect those beers would have on his 16-year old brother’s empty stomach. He knew now, but didn’t know then, that Sam had a pretty low tolerance for alcohol…the kid ended up getting bombed and bombed fast.

Dean had been growling under his breath while wrestling his clingy and still emotional sibling into a cold shower; Sam had proven to be part octopus with his arms all over the place until he managed to pull his surprised brother into the small shower stall with him. The wet and suddenly demonstrative teen had then admitted that his feelings were somewhat more than brotherly.

Dean had been shocked and that shock had allowed Sam to slip under his guard and plant a sloppy, pure teenage, unskilled kiss on his slack-jawed mouth. That kiss had served to snap Dean back to reality even as it was burning his blood.

After that night he’d made damn certain to push the whole ‘we’re brothers’ line. He’d tried to ignore the longing puppy dog eyes that watched him to the point where even their hunt-obsessed father was starting to notice and look concerned. That was when Dean made the toughest choice in his twenty years: he’d flat out lied to his little brother and made himself say things that he knew would hurt Sam if only to protect him.

Now as he sat outside their motel room in some small out of the way place in Ohio, he tried to ignore the broken sobs he could hear as Sam cried in his sleep. He’d been crying like this for the past two months, and Dean closed his eyes while his fingers clenched in helpless rage.

It had been his fault that whatever hounded their family had been led right to Sam’s apartment at Stanford. Dean had taken the blame for that as well as Jessica Moore’s death like he did everything else in their lives. Now as he replayed Sam’s confession in his mind, he wondered if he now had something else to feel guilty over because come morning, or afternoon depending on when Sam woke up, he either had to force himself to lie to Sam again or risk telling him the secret that he’d been keeping all these years; a secret that had nearly come out after their little run-in with Bloody Mary.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath while praying whatever choice he made didn’t end up making things worse than they already were.

By the time consciousness fully returned, Sam Winchester’s head was throbbing, his stomach was rolling, and there were dots dancing in front of his eyes that he knew shouldn’t be there.

He wasn’t sure what time it was or how long he spent clinging to the toilet in the bathroom until he finally was able to drag himself back into the bedroom; he wasn’t sure if the smell of strong coffee was welcome or if it was going to chase him back into the bathroom.

“There’s dry toast and coffee straight ahead if you can make it that far.”

Sam fought back the groan that wanted to escape at the way his older brother’s deep casual voice made his aching head pound that much more, and the thought of any food touching his stomach nearly had him making a return trip to the bathroom.

He stared with bloodshot eyes at the distance to his bed and then slumped face first to the questionably clean carpet with a mumble that sounded something like, ‘let me die here’.

“Yeah, you did yourself in really good last night, Sammy,” Dean replied as he sat at the table eying his hung-over brother. He actually felt sorry for the kid even if he didn’t sound like it. “What’s the rule about you and booze?”

“Two beers…nothing hard…” Sam groaned, wishing the jackhammers would leave his head. He also wished he didn’t have so many memories of the night before because he was in no state to have the fight that he knew would be coming soon. “Let’s just chalk it up to another of your little brother’s monumental screw-ups then…and can you wait to lecture or yell until the world stops spinning?”

The older brother had spent the night arguing with himself over what he should do, and after a restless night with barely any sleep and too much coffee, he finally reached a decision. He was going to lay his whole hand on the table and let the proverbial chips fall where they may, good or bad. Either way he was tired of lying to himself and to Sam, and honestly, he was tired of letting his brother beat himself up for the feelings he had.

“How much do you actually remember from last night?” Dean sipped his coffee while being a little surprised that he was actually staying this calm.

“Too much,” Sam mumbled into the carpet, wishing he could crawl in a dark hole until his head and stomach decided to play nice with each other. The question made him nervous, and he peeled one eye back so he could try to locate his brother in the room. “Why?” he asked warily, mouth dry and heart pounding.

Dean finished his coffee, set the cup aside, and slowly pushed to his feet so he could move closer to where Sam was still lying on the floor.

His eyes were for once unreadable and that made Sam uneasy, but he wasn’t with it enough to flinch or deflect the strong hands that reached down for him. Dean managed without too much strain to pull his little brother’s dragging ass off the floor and then held him steady until he found his feet.

“Do you recall the part where I said that if you remembered what you said to me last night, we’d talk about it?” Dean asked slowly, eyes deep and serious in a way that Sam couldn’t ever recall seeing before. He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Umm, yeah?” By the time he’d had that emotional outburst, a lot of the whiskey had actually been gone, so Sam did recall what he’d said to his brother…in depressing clarity. He recalled the emotions, the guilt, and especially the rekindled desire for something that Sam knew he’d never be allowed have.

Now as he swallowed thickly, he tried to let his lashes hide his eyes so he didn’t have to see the shame, disgust and anger that he figured would be showing on his brother’s face. After all, last night he’d admitted to Dean that he’d gone to school not only to find a normal life but also because to run away from the feelings he shouldn’t have felt for him.

If Sam knew anything about his brother, it was that he had a temper that could be lightning fast or slow burning. He suspected that since Dean had probably been stewing all night, his temper would be ready to explode, so he instinctively tried to pull free only to feel himself pushed firmly back against the wall with Dean pressing against him to keep him still. “Dean…I…please…I’m…” He knew he needed to apologize but he couldn’t seem to form the necessary words.

“Are you fully sober right this minute, Sammy?” Dean demanded shortly, voice like hard steel as he easily held his brother against the wall. One strong hand cupped the younger hunter’s chin in a grip that might leave bruises and kept Sam from turning his face away from the deep green eyes that were laser focused on him. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you are sober…that you have full control of every inch of that big brain you’re supposed to have. Tell me!”

“Yes!” Sam cringed as his head pounded, and he let his body slump back against the wall. He decided not to fight back against Dean’s anger. He would take whatever his big brother wanted to dish out; after all, he couldn’t blame his anti-emotional, drop dead gorgeous, flirt with anything in a skirt and high heels brother for being pissed to learn that the brother he’d spent his life raising, teaching, and protecting had some serious hang-ups…such as wanting to have sex with him.

“Yes, I’m sober. And yes, I know what I said…again and while it was a mistake to bring it up, I don’t regret it.” Sam struggled to keep the waiver out of his voice. “I’m tired of lying to you, of wanting more than I can have but I get it…I really do…I get that it’s wrong to want you like I do because we’re brothers…and I get that I’m a sick person for dreaming of you when I faked my way through sex with Jess…so…so I’ll…I’ll leave if you want me to…or you can take off.” His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes against the sudden burning he felt; he didn't want to let the tears fall in front of Dean. He’d have plenty of time to wallow in his grief and self-hate as he tried to figure out what to do once he was alone.

With his eyes closed Sam missed the softening of Dean’s features as he watched his little brother’s face; one thing they had always been able to do was read each other by their expressions, and Dean could practically read his little brother’s mind right now.

“You think I’m taking off or kicking you to the curb?” he asked quietly, pressing the arm he had across Sam’s chest just enough to warn the kid to keep still when he’d tried to move.

“I’ve basically admitted twice now that I want you to fuck me…and you can’t use the ‘he’s drunk’ excuse this time because I’m sober…hungover as hell, but sober. And if you asked me again, I’d say the same thing to you because it’s true. So yeah, why would you want to be around me?” Sam asked, voice low like it got when he was upset but trying to face the truth. “I knew it when I was fourteen…I got so pissed off because I saw you making out with some ditzy blond on the couch…I intentionally pissed Dad off to start a fight because at least then you’d pay attention to me.”

“I always paid attention to you, dumbass,” Dean snorted but things started to fall into place him for him. He remembered that when Sam was 14, he had started really acting out and also asking more questions about sex, but now that he thought it, never about girls.

“I knew what I should’ve been looking at…and sure, some girls were pretty enough, but I knew I’d never be able to hang around one place long enough to meet one that I might be interested in. And I knew it was weird that I never wanted to feel their hands on me or wondered what being kissed by them would be like.” He slowly lifted his lashes just enough to peek at Dean when he only heard a low grunt in response. “I was 15 when I really started watching you. I watched how you would flirt with girls or how you’d kiss ‘em…I started to wonder what…” He stopped, a faint pink tinging his cheeks, because while it was safe to think about, it wasn’t something he thought he could say out loud, especially with Dean right in front of him, his lips so damn close that Sam could feel the warm breath ghosting over his cheek.

“Wondered what, Sammy?” Dean prompted in a voice that had suddenly dropped low with a huskiness to it that made Sam’s legs shake more than they were already. Sam shook his head, unable to continue his train of thought. “Wondered what it would be like? Is that why you were an annoying little pest that year? Why I couldn’t bring a girl around the motel because you were either always there or more than rude if I did?” He suddenly grinned a little more at how much he wanted to drop his little brother off a cliff back then. “So…jealous or curious?”

“Both,” Sam returned honestly; there wasn’t any reason to lie now. His secret was out and now he just had to wait for the teasing to stop and the shouting to start. “I get that it’s not right to feel this way…and I wish to God that I had grown out of it…but I knew after the first six months at Stanford, when I met Jess, that it wasn’t going to work. I experimented with a guy too…in case it wasn’t just you…but that turned out badly so…”

“You did what?” Dean’s smirk over Sam being jealous turned much darker at the thought of another guy’s hands on his brother. “Define turned out badly…and turned out badly for who?”

Sam kicked himself for bringing that up. Of course his big brother wouldn’t let a comment like that pass unchallenged. He wondered if perhaps his head would just go ahead and explode, saving him from the discomfort of this conversation.

Sam shifted again, half-heartedly trying to squirm away from his brother, but the older hunter wasn’t giving him an inch. Being pinned against the wall by Dean wasn’t new, but if they were going to have this talk then he’d prefer to have some distance between them. Something to keep his mind off of how easy it would be to let his blood heat and his body respond to the closeness of hard lean muscle. Sam groaned and closed his eyes again.

“Sam…you tell me what happened.” Dean’s voice was soft but the command was impossible to miss.

“It was freshman year…my first frat party. I was drinking…yeah, stupid, I know…and some hotshot football player started flirting with me.” Sam sighed, letting his head bang back against the wall while his eyes closed at the memory. “I was young, naïve, and stupidly in love with my brother…I thought maybe…you know…it was guys in general…not just you.” Sam let out a snort of frustration. “It took like five minutes for me to figure out that it was just you. I tried to leave, but he was stupid and drunk. I broke his nose and I would’ve been okay if his friends hadn’t jumped in to help. It hurt…a lot. So did the broken arm that laid me up for a week. That was when Jess decided I needed a girlfriend if only to stop the rumors that started going around and to keep the football team off my back…are you gritting your teeth?” he opened one eye to frown and felt the same shiver he got whenever his brother had ‘that’ look; the look that he always got when Sam was bullied or threatened.

“Yeah, I am and you are so giving me names.” Dean vowed to make people bleed because it didn’t matter how many years had passed; if anyone put their hands on his brother, then they either bled or suffered broken bones. “I’ll kick _your_ ass for experimenting later because trust me, you are not gay…despite how geeky you can be.”

“I wasn’t sure what I was…I…umm…needed to see if I was…you know…or if it was just you I was attracted to. I mean, I like girls more than guys, but I’ve ever been wildly attracted to anyone…except…” Sam bit his lip and shut up, figuring he’d said quite enough by that point and was ready for the yelling and lecturing to start.

Dean watched Sam’s lashes cover his eyes again as he chewed on his bottom lip in a way that never failed to make Dean bite his own tongue. He put his anger at the nameless football player on the back burner, and focused on the young man in front of him. “So you were curious, eh? You wondered if all those rumors going around the schools we went to about my kisses were true, little brother?” He easily kept Sam pinned with his arm, but he gentled the fingers that were still holding his chin as he curved them so they brushed over Sam’s pale cheek. “Now tell me the truth, are you still curious to find out about my kisses?” he asked, voice dropping even lower as he moved his mouth until it was close to Sam’s ear and felt the younger man shudder. “Did you really mean all the things you said last night? What you said this morning?”

Sam knew in his head that he should deny it, that he should say no, but the feeling of Dean’s breath over his skin, the weight of his chest pressing against him as he pulled his arm away made it impossible to lie. “Yeah,” he muttered and tried to prepare for the teasing to come. He wasn’t prepared for what actually happened though.

“Thank God, because I’ve been wanting to do this since you were 16 and developed that damn habit of chewing your lip when you were thinking too hard.” Dean’s hands moved to frame Sam’s face between them and then his mouth was covering his younger brother’s in a kiss that was both hot and demanding but not at all harsh or hard.

Sam gasped, stunned for a second, until it slowly began to sink in that he was being kissed and kissed seriously. He’d dreamed of this moment for years and now that it was happening, he almost forgot to breathe much less kiss back. Dean slowly deepened the kiss, gentling it, but Sam couldn’t quite remember what he was supposed to do.

He had heard so many girls gush and rave over his brother’s kisses, how his mouth felt, how skilled he was with his tongue that Sam used to think they were making it up just to outdo one another. Now as he felt himself giving into the kiss, letting his lips open with a sigh after feeling the teasing touch of Dean’s tongue running over them, the younger man realized that none of those girls had even come close to describing what being kissed by Dean Winchester was actually like.

“God,” he groaned when the kiss broke and he could focus again. He slowly opened his eyes to see Dean watching him with just a hint of his cocky smile, but none of the rage or shame that Sam had been expecting. “You…umm…” He would have reached up to touch his lips to be sure he was really feeling this but found his arms suddenly heavy. “You…really just…”

“Kissed you, yeah, I got that.” Dean’s lips curved, sliding one hand down to the side of Sam’s neck while his other stayed on his cheek, green eyes focused on the stunned huge hazel ones before him. “How was it by the way?” He’d heard all the stories too.

“You are far better at kissing than those girls said you were.” Sam blushed suddenly as he watched his brother’s smile slowly turn wicked, and he groaned without realizing it when Dean stepped closer to press against him. A piece of Sam wondered if this was actually a dream because this should not be happening.

“High school was a long time ago, little brother. I’ve learned a few new tricks since those days.” Dean could see the confusion shining back at him and silently wondered where his nerves were and why this seemed more comfortable and more right than he thought it would. “I’ll show you exactly what I can do…if you can look me in the eyes one time and answer me honestly. Is this what you really, really want, Sammy?”

Dean had decided that if Sam still wanted this when he was sober, then he was done hiding the feelings for his brother that he’d buried years earlier. Now as he waited for Sam’s brain to catch up, he could see the desire but also the fear in those big deep eyes, the ones he’d lost himself to the first time his baby brother had looked at him.

“I…yes, but…” Sam had to swallow and quickly try to find the right words even though he was certain he’d be waking up soon. “Why’re you doing this?” he asked. “You always said that I was…”

“No, I never said _you_ were wrong,” Dean was quick to correct, fingers brushing over Sam’s cheek. He couldn’t resist any longer and finally gave in to the burning need to do what he’d been wanting to since the first time he’d seen his brother chew his bottom lip. He took that full lip between his own teeth and gently teased it until he heard a low moan of want as Sam’s already blown mind was further blown. “I said the whole act was wrong because we’re brothers.” He drew on Sam’s lip some more until he got another moan and felt a hesitant hand slowly reach for him. “I was also lying through my damn teeth when I said that. I’ve looked at you like I shouldn’t have since you started that growth spurt that didn’t end until you were four inches taller than me. I let you go to Stanford that night, didn’t try to stop you, because I knew it wouldn’t have been much longer before I tossed your ass onto a bed or into the back of the Impala and had my way with you.”

“Oh my God,” Sam groaned, letting his head hit the wall to try and wake himself up before this went too far. “Why didn’t you say something when I told you that first night?” he demanded, feeling denim under his fingers when he let his hands rest on Dean’s hips. He felt another slide of denim as Dean’s right leg shifted forward just enough to slip between his legs and that was about when Sam decided his body was going to explode.

“You were 16, damn it, so no matter how much my body and heart might’ve wanted to give in, I had to at least pretend to be the mature big brother looking to protect his innocent little brother.” Dean’s lips were moving down the hard line of Sam’s jaw, and that innocent little brother shuddered as teeth raked over an especially sensitive spot just below his ear. He let his hands move more freely until they got under Sam’s t-shirt, and the first touch of his brother’s skin nearly had Dean losing the control he was fighting to maintain. “I already knew my life was shot to hell. I didn’t want to drag you down with me if you still had a shot at normal with apple pie, a pretty wife, and all the accessories.”

“It should’ve been my choice, Dean,” Sam groaned, swearing his eyes were rolling back in his head just from feeling Dean’s lips and hands on him; he could feel his own body starting to react. “My choice then, my choice now. I wanted you then and I want you now.”

Dean lifted his head to pull back slowly, green eyes dark with lust as he stared into his brother’s eyes to see just a narrow ring of hazel around black. “Do you mean it?” he asked, continuing quickly before he could be given one of Sam’s infamous bitch faces. “I’m giving you one shot at this, Sammy. You tell me you want this, want me and I give in…there’s no going back. That’s what I need you to understand and think about.”

Slowly Dean reached down to clasp both of Sam’s hands with his and moved them up above his head, pressing them against the wall as his knee shifted to rub against the erection he could see by the damp bulge in Sam’s jeans.

“I’ve held off doing this…I let you go and nearly destroyed myself doing it because once I have you, I’m not letting go.” He leaned in to lick a stripe up Sam’s neck before swirling the tip of his tongue over the shell of his ear, feeling himself get harder just from the soft sounds Sam made. “I’m a possessive bastard as you know well, and I don’t share well with others so if we do this, then it’s all or nothing. You get where I’m going with this?”

Oh, Sam got it. He was just waiting to wake up or for it to be a joke, but when Dean’s eyes stayed steady on his, then he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Does that go both ways?” he asked tightly, surprised when his voice shook, but the emotions suddenly seemed to be getting the better of him.

He’d never once allowed himself to think that he could ever have this…have Dean, and now that it might be happening, now that his brother was saying that he felt the same, and that this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing…now he was getting a little overwhelmed by the strong emotions he felt.

“Mine,” Dean whispered against his ear, gently pulling the sensitive lobe between his teeth as his fingers trailed up Sam’s chest to find and tease his nipples. “Yours.” He added huskily, no longer fighting the feelings as he felt Sam’s fingertips tugging on the hem of his shirt as if wanting to touch but still leery. “I can’t promise not to flirt since flirting’s as natural to me as geeking out over some new piece of electronics or an old book is to you, but I will promise to never take anyone else into my bed. That good with you, little brother?”

“Am I awake for this or just dreaming? Am I gonna wake up just when this gets really good?” Sam had to ask since everything still seemed a little surreal. The deep, low, amused laugh was like liquid gold in his veins. He honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d heard Dean give a genuine laugh.

“Ask me that after I rock your world, baby boy,” Dean teased, and then settled his lips over Sam’s again for a slow, soft kiss that managed to melt the younger Winchester’s brain. “How’s that hangover by the way?” he asked in between kisses, pulling Sam away from the wall and shifting them so his brother landed on his back on Dean’s bed with a soft oophm sound.

“What hangover?” Sam countered, completely forgetting his headache as he pushed his hair out of his eyes and nearly swallow his tongue as he watched Dean’s long lean fingers pull his black t-shirt up over his head to drop to the floor, but instead of working on his own jeans, Dean then knelt on the bed to so he could reach for Sam’s. “Should I test to make sure you’re you and not anything else?”

Fingers flipping the button open, Dean had just started to ease the zipper down when his eyes lifted at that comment and he paused, thinking back to St. Louis and that damn shapeshifter. “You can if you want,” he said, recalling how jumpy his brother had been since the encounter with the shifter and how many nights he had woken up from nightmares. He cursed his own stupidity for not thinking about just what that thing might’ve done or said to Sam. “You…shit, Sammy, I’m sorry…” He started to pull back in concern only to have Sam’s hands reach for him.

“Don’t stop.” Sam could have bitten his own tongue off for stupidly reminding Dean of the possibility that more had happened with the shapeshifter than he’d admitted to. It was weird, and he knew that his brother would probably demand some answers about that later, but he knew this was Dean and that if he freaked out or needed to slow things down, his brother would listen…unlike then. “I’m fine, Dean. I’m just…nervous.”

“I’d be testing you if you weren’t, Sammy,” Dean chuckled. He was still a little uneasy about this but when he didn’t see any true fear in Sam’s darkening eyes, he finished sliding the zipper down and begin skimming the jeans and boxer briefs down those long legs and groaned at the sight he saw. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, nearly forgetting for a moment just how good looking his little brother was.

Sam wasn’t used to being studied this intensely by anyone, much less Dean, so he could feel his face heating up as he reached to pull his own shirt off. As soon as the shirt was gone, he lost the ability to breathe because his brother’s mouth was on his, hot and searing, tongue gentle through as it sought entrance to his mouth.

“I used to be able to make you blush back when you were younger too,” Dean teased as he kissed Sam like he’d always wanted to, ignoring all the taboos and rules. He refused to consider what their father might think if he ever found out about this because as far as Sam went, Dean had stopped paying attention to John Winchester’s opinions long ago. “You are so goddamn beautiful, Sammy,” he whispered into Sam’s mouth as their tongues played and explored and he felt Sam once again hesitantly touching his chest. “You can touch me, Sam.”

“I…I want to but…I’m so scared of screwing this up…and I wanna feel you but…oh!” Sam gasped at the feel of hot wet lips closing over the rock hard nub on his chest and he nearly lost it right there; he actually might have if not for the grasp of Dean’s fingers at the base of his fully hard and dripping cock. “Never…never felt this before.”

“Oh, little brother, the things I can teach you.” Dean’s smile was wicked but also relaxed as he slid back off the bed to shed his jeans and let Sam look as much as he wanted because he found that he liked having his brother’s eyes, nearly all pupil by this point, on him. “Like what you see, Sammy?”

Sam didn’t even mind the annoying nickname that he usually corrected. Now he wanted to hear it. Now he wanted to feel his brother’s hands touching him, but he also wanted to look at Dean’s lean, toned muscled body more too.

He managed a blind nod, chewing his bottom lip as he watched Dean pull something out of his duffel. “What’s that?” he asked, pushing up to an elbow only to go back down at the gentle touch of fingertips on his chest.

“The fact that you’re asking me that tells me that whatever sex you’ve had has either been very painful, or very, very boring.” Dean hoped it was the latter or else he’d be hunting assholes down until hell froze over. “I know you’ve jerked off since most motel rooms have paper-thin walls.”

Sam’s cheeks flushed more and he let his bangs fall back into his eyes as he watched Dean rub the bottle of lube between his hands for a moment before placing a hand on his thigh to urge him to roll over. Sam complied, still stunned that this was actually happening. “I know what the lube is and what to do with it, jerk,” he muttered, groaning as his ready cock touched the rough comforter, but he let Dean’s hands position him, tugging him up more on his knees. “I guess I meant you didn’t have to use it. This time probably won’t take long for either of us so…oh fuck.” He groaned at the first touch of a slick calloused fingertip swiping along the crease of his ass as if searching gently. “Dean…”

“The asshole whose nose you broke did this without prepping you, didn’t he?” Dean was certain of this and felt his already heated blood boil in anger at the stupidity of the football player who’d touched his brother, who’d hurt him. “Sam, have you ever done this…the right way…with anyone?”

Feeling his face heat, Sam turned it into his arm as he mumbled a negative reply. “After that guy I was scared to try again…and besides, I knew it was really you I wanted to be with.” He blushed as he chose to add. “I mean, I’ve touched myself a few times, and Jess had a toy we used once or twice but…have you?” he suddenly asked and felt his brother go still for a moment as he slowly worked the tip of his index finger up into the pink tightly clenched hole. “Dean? Have you…I mean…you’ve been with a lot of women I guess…at least that’s what Caleb used to say… but have you…?”

“We won’t bring up anything Caleb told you about my sex life since he shouldn’t even have been talking to my kid brother about that,” Dean muttered and swore to slap his long time friend and fellow hunter on his bald head the next time he saw him. He was mainly worried with answering Sam in a way that would be honest without revealing too much. “As for the other…yeah, a few times,” he muttered and hoped his sibling was distracted enough not to ask anything else.

There were things that Dean would rather Sam not know about, and that included some of the less than respectable things he’d done to get them money when Sam was growing up, and a few times after the kid left for college.

Something tugged at Sam but before he could respond or ask, he was groaning, back arching as he felt Dean’s finger slip further up to gently work him open. He swore that his body was igniting more with each touch of his brother’s hands. “Dean, please,” he gasped, settling again at the feel of warm lips on the neck as his brother’s mouth licked, kissed and sucked its way from his neck down to the base of his spine. “That…what you’re doing…that feels so good.”

Dean’s smile was soft as he worked as slowly as he could right then to open Sam, to stretch his tight hole so this didn’t hurt him.

Twice he had to grip himself so he didn’t come just from the feel of Sam’s inner muscles clamping down on his fingers or from the sounds and moans his brother was making without even knowing it.

It was true that Dean enjoyed sex and had had plenty of partners since he became active in his teens. He always made an effort to make his partner enjoyed the moment too, but this was the first time that he honestly could say he cared; this wasn’t just about release but also about the emotions between then.

By the time he managed to work three fingers into the snug channel, Sam was still a little tighter than he liked, but Dean knew it would take a few times and more prep work before his brother could take him easily. He also knew neither of them had the patience for that right then as Sam was basically pleading now and had been since the first brush of a gentle finger over his prostate.

“Shhh, okay, settle down,” he murmured against Sam’s ear as he eased his fingers out to hear the whimper. “Need to grab one more thing and then…Sammy?” His brother had reached back to hold him still.

“No, don’t want you to use that.” Sam might not know a lot but he was pretty sure he knew what his brother would be reaching for, and while he appreciated the thought, he knew he wanted to feel Dean fully and that meant going without a condom. “You don’t need that. I know I’m clean and I trust you, too. I know you were always careful.” He glanced back over his shoulder and looked into deep, glittering green eyes that held a want in them that for as long as Sam lived, he knew he’d never see on anyone but Dean. “I…I want…I _need_ to feel you come.”

This time it was Dean who offered a low moan at those words, but he slowly nodded because Sam was right. He was clean; he had always been very careful, even with casual hook ups. Of course those hook ups were now a thing of the past. “This first time won’t take as long as I’d like it to, but I promise to make it up to you,” he murmured against Sam’s ear as he used more lube over his already hard and slick cock. He wanted to be sure that this didn’t hurt Sam more than it had to. “If this hurts too much or you want to stop, you tell me, Sam,” he ordered firmly despite knowing he’d likely implode in that case, but Dean would stop.

“Just get the fuck inside me before I explode,” Sam countered, voice shaking as much as his arms were from supporting himself. “Need to come and wanna feel you when I do.”

“Huh. You’re gonna be a bossy bottom it seems,” Dean chuckled but leaned up to find Sam’s lips while working the head of his cock into the stretched but still tight hole. He felt Sam tense briefly at the odd feeling of something thick and long pressing into him. “Shh, give it a second and soon I promise it’ll feel so good, Sammy.”

Sam had seen enough porn to know what to expect, but it was different to feel it himself. Dean’s cock was so much bigger than the dildo that he’d used or his own fingers, so the stretch and burn was a little more painful than he’d expected. He sucked in a hard breath, fighting to control the building fear and memories, and then he felt gentle lips soothing him with slow soft kisses along his neck and face while a strong arm slid around his waist to remind him that he was safe.

“Just relax and give yourself time to adjust, little brother.” Dean could feel the tension in Sam’s body and he struggled to move slowly, but the tight heat around his cock made his body want to claim and own, to snap his hips forward until he was flush. He forced himself to hold still until Sam nodded. “Damn, you are so tight still, Sammy,” he groaned, closing his eyes against the sensations; he couldn’t remember a time when sex had felt like this. “So good, baby boy.”

This nickname was something that Sam had rarely allowed his brother to use, but now he decided that he loved it, and that it would only be used between them during times like this. He slowly felt his body relax against what it viewed as an intrusion, and he finally felt Dean’s cock slide home. Suddenly something seemed to explode inside him and he was seeing stars as that wonderful tightness hit a spot in him that had him crying out his brother’s name as his hips moved back to try to find that feeling again.

“I’ve got’cha, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was tight as he worked to give gentle rolls of his hips rather sharp thrusts until Sam could get used to him, to the feelings that he could see were surging through his little brother’s body just from this stimulation. “You feel so good around me.”

“Dean…” Sam was losing the ability to focus with each thrust Dean made, with each touch over that spot inside him. The younger Winchester swore that it had never felt this good the few times he’d found that spot with his own fingers or a toy. “Please…fuck…ummm, oh my God,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against Dean’s shoulder as he was brought up to his knees so that his back was flush with the solidness of his brother’s chest. “Dean…gotta come,” he moaned, body on an edge that was just this side of painful now. “Please let me. Please…”

Dean could feel his own balls tightening and knew he was close. He also could feel the shaking working through Sam as little brother tried to control his orgasm. He knew his brother had to still be tired from the late night and the hangover, and that everything would hit him again once he came down from this adrenaline rush, so he decided to take pity on Sam and bring things to a conclusion. He moved his hand down from where it had been playing with his nipples to close around his hard and dripping cock and began to stroke it firmly.

He’d pretended to be asleep enough times while surreptitiously watching his brother jerk himself off to know how Sam liked to be touched, so with skilled fingers and with gentle thrusts of his hips to take his cock up to hit that spot, he soon felt Sam’s inner muscles tighten a moment before he felt his brother shudder and then he was coming hard with Dean’s name on his lips.

“Oh…oh my…Dean!” Sam had felt himself getting close and then he felt white lights implode behind his eyes and then he was coming, shooting white strips of come over the hand that was still stroking his cock and over his own stomach. “I…you…”

Sam moaned low at the feel of Dean’s hips still moving against him, still brushing that spot and then he was moaning at the feel of warmth filling him and at the teasing light feel of teeth raking over his shoulder as Dean came inside him.

For the next several moments the room was silent except for sounds, moans and words whispered that neither man would admit to later on as flesh touched flesh.

Sam whimpered lowly when the touch to his sensitive cock became too much, but as if Dean sensed it, he was easing his hand away to wrap around Sam’s waist when the boy suddenly went limp. Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head from the strength of his climax and the rush of exhaustion that suddenly came out of nowhere, making him drift into the welcome bliss of the aftereffects of his orgasm and the warmth of strong arms as Dean supported his weight while working through the last of his own climax.

“Easy, Sammy, easy.” Dean had felt the change a second before his brother went limp against him, grunting a little under the weight and remembering this was not the same gawky skinny kid he’d been at 16. Once he felt his own climax slowly end, he shifted them so they were on their sides and he could hold Sam a moment longer before easing out slowly, being careful that he didn’t hurt his brother when he pulled out. “No, shhh, it’s okay. I’m right here, but I need to grab a rag to clean you up a bit,” he soothed after his sleepy sibling let out a low whimper of disagreement at the loss of him.

By the time Sam’s brain came back online, he was lying on his bed, clean of come and sweat, and dressed in a pair of loose sleep pants. He blinked quickly and went to push up, to call out for his brother, almost thinking it had been a dream until he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone in his bed.

“I’m right here, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was low and drowsy, but also deep and caring, something his brother rarely let himself show unless it was with Sam and even then it was rare. “I was about to worry you’d knocked yourself out or something. How you feeling?”

“I…” Sam started to say fine, but then he went to move and winced as his head ached, the hangover making itself know once again. His ass was a little sore, but nothing like he thought he might be…nothing like after the night of the frat party. He suddenly shifted so he could roll toward Dean to see that his brother was lying on his back dressed in only a pair of sweats. “It wasn’t a dream,” he whispered as it sank in that they really had just… “What…did we do?”

Dean blinked, wondering if he should be more worried about Sam’s head, but then something clicked as he saw the emotions crossing his brother’s open face, and he smiled the one true honest smile that only Sam was ever graced to see.

He lifted a hand to lightly brush damp hair back off of Sam’s forehead before placing a soft kiss to his lips. “We made love.” He clarified the term, speaking slowly and clearly while moving his other arm to that it could wrap around Sam’s shoulders and bring him down to lie against him with his head on Dean’s chest. “I can’t always promise slow and careful, but no matter how we do it, it’ll never be fucking or something as crude as that. I will never just take you and leave you to sleep alone. I will make love to you and then we’ll sleep…but we might consider getting a room with a king-size bed or something.”

“Thank you,” Sam murmured, kissing Dean hesitantly, still unsure about his own skills compared to his brother’s, but then he was smiling as he felt Dean take control of the kiss and opened his mouth for his tongue to slip inside to lightly glide over his. “I lo…” He broke off to lift his eyes, unsure if he should, or even could, continue.

If there was one word in the Winchester dictionary that Sam had hardly heard growing up, it was the L word. While he longed to say it now, he didn’t want to make Dean freeze up, so he laid his head back down to find that wonderful spot between his brother’s neck and shoulder, the spot that he’d always preferred when he was younger and looking for comfort.

“You can say what you were going to, Sam.” Dean had heard the cut off comment and seen the hope in Sam’s eyes. He knew what his brother wanted to say because he knew Sam had always longed to hear and say that word more than they did. “I do love you, y’know,” he murmured, lips curving when he heard the whispered ‘ _Christo_ ’. “Cute, geek boy…real cute. Keep it up and I won’t show you all the neat things we can do in the shower.” He gave a fake growl, carding his fingers back through soft dark floppy hair.”

“Love you, De’n.” Sam’s voice was sleepy as he snuggled closer under the arm that held him close, lips curved into a happy sated smile as he drifted off again.

As sleep overcame him, Sam felt confident for the first time in months that he would sleep peacefully, undisturbed by the nightmares that had been plaguing him. He felt relaxed and safe in a way that he hadn’t felt in years and while he might always feel guilty about Jessica’s death, Sam knew he didn’t have to lie to himself anymore. He prayed Dean didn’t ever come to regret this act because he knew he wouldn’t.

“Love you, too, Sammy.” He heard the warmth in that deep husky voice and fell asleep with good dreams dancing in head for once; he hoped they lasted.

**The End**


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